


Zanado Treasure Fruit

by burningoninmyheartfire



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Menstrual Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Other, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningoninmyheartfire/pseuds/burningoninmyheartfire
Summary: After seeing Byleth struggle with period cramps, Jeritza offers his 'assistance'.Based on a kink meme prompt: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1608.html?thread=2906184#cmt2906184
Relationships: Death Knight/My Unit | Byleth, Jeritza von Hrym/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Zanado Treasure Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: this fic contains a character switching during sex. while this is porn land where everyone involved is down for it, this does not apply to real life. please negotiate this stuff with all partners that are liable to pop in BEFORE having sex.

Byleth was sure their cramps never _used_ to be this bad. Perhaps this was their body making damn sure they were thankful that they hadn’t woken up after five years in a river dyed red from their own blood.

Though the Red Canyon _could_ do with the competition...

Another wave of pain made them stumble in their next attack, their sword slipping out of their sweaty hands. This was stupid. This had been a known problem for as long as humans had been around, and yet the herbs the infirmary had on offer did next to nothing.

They winced through the ensuing spasms as they bent down to pick up their sword and turn back to their training partner.

“Your skills are... poor today,” Jeritza said, rather than getting on with the next round. As one of the only people at the monastery able to match Byleth’s skill with a blade, they found themself training with the man a lot lately. Maybe it was knowing how skilled _he_ was, or maybe it was the lingering memory of him as an enemy, but his comment prickled at something inside them.

“I just need a warm up,” Byleth retorted with a swing that sent Jeritza reeling backwards. It was sort of true; exercise was supposed to help ease menstrual cramps, wasn’t it? Then again, so were those damned herbs...

Thankfully Jeritza wasn’t one to question things once a fight started. So for a moment the two of them exchanged blows in silence, dodging, blocking, scuffling across the dirt of the training grounds. It was simple, exhilarating and-

Byleth hissed in pain as they bent back too far to duck under Jeritza’s latest swing. Their pelvic muscles cramped around nothing and they just barely got their hands under them in time to control their unceremonious crash landing. Behind them they could sense Jeritza drop his stance and come to look down at them. Honestly, that was more annoying that the fall itself.

They got back to their feet, dusting their hands off on their breeches, and turned to face him. He was examining the blade of his sword with a puzzled look on his face. “Strange,” he hummed under his breath, before glaring at Byleth’s legs. “You were hiding an injury,” he said louder, tone accusing.

“What-” Byleth looked down at themself; a dark patch was spreading down the inside of their left thigh. That was blood all right. Brilliant. They’d needed more laundry in their life. “It’s fine,” they sighed, since Jeritza was still staring at them in what could charitably be called concern. “I just bled through my rags.” With a kick of their leg and a wiggle of their hips to shuffle things about they settled on... yes, that was officially ruined. They handed their sword off to their training partner. “I’ll be back soon. I just need to change.”

Jeritza harrumphed. “If you aren’t in a state to fight me, don’t bother coming back.” Byleth’s irritation flared up again.

“I’m not going to slack on my training over my _monthly_!” they said indignantly. Seemingly undermining them on purpose, their traitorous body clenched again and they fought off a wince that threatened to make its way to their face.

“...You’re still in pain right now.”

They needed a less perceptive training partner.

“Just do what it is you ordinarily do for the pain, then come back.”

“ _Ordinarily_ I ignore it,” Byleth muttered. Subconsciously they’d started massaging their abdomen. “I guess I could try that other thing Manuela suggested...”

“Oh?”

“But I don’t know if masturbating really would help or if she was just too drunk to stay on topic...” They shrugged. “May as well give it a shot.” When they looked up at Jeritza again, his cheeks were dusted red. “I’ll see you in a bit if it works, the-”

“Let me help,” he blurted. Followed by a drawn out pause while Byleth processed the fact that Jeritza had, in fact, just offered to help them masturbate.

 _Well_ , they reasoned, their eyes raking down one of his muscular arms to examine his long, gloved fingers. They couldn’t say they were _un_ interested in the man. Not when his last few aloud fantasies about his death at their hands had stirred _something_ inside them. Which when they laid it out, sounded slightly _off_ , but they never claimed to be an expert on romance.

“Alright, let’s go,” Byleth said, grabbing one of Jeritza’s wrists and cutting off his half-baked excuse about getting them into fighting condition quicker. He just about had the wherewithal to dump their practice swords by the exit of the training grounds as Byleth tugged him off in the direction of their room.

  
  


The instant the door shut behind them, Byleth wasted no time in tossing their coat over a chair and stripping from the waist down, kicking that all into a compact bloodied pile before realising they couldn’t sit down anywhere without needing to wash that too, and reluctantly excavating their relatively unsoiled breeches. They laid them out on the edge of their bed, manipulating the fabric enough to be protective, then with a heavy sigh sat down on top of it. They flinched at the ache that rippled through them with the movement.

Jeritza was standing stock still barely two paces from the door, hands by his side and gaze affixed firmly to the half of Byleth that was still dressed. He looked woefully out of his element, and Byleth felt a jolt of excitement at seeing him vulnerable.

They spread their legs invitingly, carefully watching as Jeritza’s gaze shifted fractionally down. “You can’t do anything from that far away,” Byleth said, a smile threatening to break on their face. Jeritza’s head nodded down for a second before he hurriedly shuffled the remainder of the room and came to rest between Byleth’s knees. Having him look down at them like this sent a shiver of what wasn’t quite fear through them, and they felt their cunt clench around nothing.

Hesitantly Byleth reached for Jeritza’s right hand and guided it between their legs. The leather of his glove felt cool against the heat there. Instinctively he slid an exploratory finger down to their hole. It pushed in effortlessly, slick with blood.

Frankly, it felt like nothing.

“Use two fingers,” Byleth said, staring intently as Jeritza pulled out his first. It glistened, dark red and sullying the second finger that pressed against it. Together it was enough to stretch and Byleth shut their eyes in relief. With the gloves Jeritza’s fingers were thicker than their own, and it felt nice. Satisfying. Even if he clearly didn’t know what to do past pumping his fingers slowly in and out of them. They took hold of his hand again, pressed deep inside of them, and turned it palm up, biting their lip against the sensation of his knuckles rubbing their inner walls. “Curl them at the end.” Jeritza let out a small grunt of acknowledgment and obliged in a move sharp enough to knock the wind right out of Byleth. They fell forward, panting, as the spike of sheer pleasure shot through their body. “Like that,” they mumbled into Jeritza’s shoulder as he crooked his fingers again, and _again_. The world narrowed to the hot friction inside them, the wet, _filthy_ sounds of what probably wasn’t just blood anymore, the shift of Jeritza's body as he leaned down to brace his free hand on the mattress. They were simultaneously tightly wound and unraveling, floating numbly surrounded by the stench of spilled blood and Jeritza’s harsh breathing. Building, _building_ -

They stuck a hand to press a finger against their clit, firm against the heated pressure, the motion of their body pulled along by Jeritza’s quickening fingers, the tension in their muscles as they grew close, close, _close_ , _CLOSE_..!

Whatever groan came out of them was muffled by Jeritza’s shoulder. He kept the wave going, still jerking his hand even as Byleth’s cunt tightened in on him.

But as with all things, the feeling finally petered out and Byleth felt their whole being relax. A push on his arm was enough to get Jeritza to pull his hand back, the leather covering his fingers sticky now with fresh, bright red. A faraway expression on his face, he brought his bloodied fingers to his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss.

Well then. Turned out Byleth wasn’t done just yet, if the flare of heat between their legs was to be trusted.

“Are you feeling well now?” Jeritza’s question shocked them out of their reverie of his scarlet-stained lips.

“Ah. I- better.” The words felt clunky under their tongue. “I...” They bit their lip and glanced down to where Jeritza’s tunic covered his crotch. Slowly they placed a hand on his thigh, then up. His muscles tensed under their touch, but he stayed rooted in place, eyes hazy as he watched them trail their fingers towards the bulge in his leggings. It was hot to the touch. “I could do with something larger, though.”

Byleth had only seen Jeritza move this fast in battle. Or perhaps it was the bloodstains he was getting on his clothes as he tugged off his leggings that gave that impression.

His cock stood proud and flush, tenting the front of his tunic by the time Byleth grew impatient and hooked a leg around his middle to drag him close. They flopped back across the bed, smiling as Jeritza followed them down, arms bracketing their head. The fabric of his tunic tickled them where it dangled over their hips.

Jeritza reached his bloodied hand down, brushing aside the (now rather _redder_ ) material to take hold of his cock and guide it between Byleth’s folds. They could feel the tip, smooth and slippery as he ran it up over their clit and back to where their greedy hole flexed around nothing. They wiggled their hips impatiently, and got a minute smile out of Jeritza before he pushed in and Byleth’s vision fuzzed out. His cock felt... so much bigger than it looked! Ah, they could feel it pushing them apart in a way no fingers could ever hope to achieve!

Jeritza’s breath puffed into their ear, his grunt as he pulled back and then pushed back in _further_ almost a growl. Another thrust, and another, each one harder and slicker than the last, and it was becoming all Byleth could do to wrap an arm over Jeritza and hang on for dear life!

“You would... tempt me like this,” Jeritza gasped around a particularly deep thrust. His voice sounded... off. Byleth unscrewed their eyes with some considerable effort to look at Jeritza’s face. Indeed, his brow was drawn tight and his eyes had taken on the pinkish tint Byleth had learned meant they weren’t dealing with Jeritza anymore.

Whoops. Maybe they’d been onto something with comparing this to battle after all.

With an internal sigh of disappointment, Byleth let their arm drop from around the Death Knight’s back and splay out on the sheets instead. They could spring for the Sword of the Creator once he pulled back.

 _Any_ time now.

Byleth couldn’t help but notice the Death Knight was very much still fucking into them with increasing vigour. And it felt-

“ _Ah_!” They cried out as a particularly vicious thrust struck _just_ right to shove them to the edge of cumming again.

And with _that_ they were out of qualms!

Eagerly they hooked their legs around his ass and pulled the Death Knight closer into them, their efforts immediately rewarded with a surprised grunt from him. “You-” They craned their neck up to whisper in his ear.

“Give me everything.”

A low growl, and he began to move once more with a ferocity Byleth knew few would ever be able to match. Their hand was pulled up above their head, pressed into the mattress firmly at the wrist; they could already feel the lukewarm blood seeping from the Death Knight’s glove and soaking their sleeve.

They felt pinned, even by only two points, more from the sheer sensation of _feeling_ than anything they could overpower. The quick, constant rub of the cock spreading them apart, the weight and warmth of the Death Knight as he leaned down and buried his face into the crook of their neck.

“ _Hah_!” They yelled in pain before even processing the new ache in the muscle of their shoulder. It took three thrusts more to realise they’d been _bitten_. And approximately another three to remember that was maybe a _bad_ thing? It was increasingly hard to consider when the Death Knight’s rhythmic pants of exertion thrummed so nicely into their flesh, timed devastatingly with pointed thrusts of his cock. No longer in the realm of pleasure nor pain, Byleth felt as is they were being torn apart from either end, their body flexing desperately between where the two of them were joined, their breath forced out in harsh gasps.

One of their feet slipped from round the Death Knight’s waist and his angle inside them shifted _ever_ so slightly- “There!” Byleth wheezed as their G-spot was hit again and again and _again and again_ -

They felt hot and cold, and compressed and scattered, and still and shivery all at the same time as they fell apart. As it continued. More and more and more and _more_..!

 _Ah_...

They could feel the bed sheets underneath them, count the blinking lights that dotted the edge of their vision. The Death Knight was still fucking them, a stuttering frenzy they’d gladly egg on if their muscles hadn’t given up on them. But alas, they were left helpless to recoup their bearings as, with a final shout into their shoulder, the Death Knight came and promptly collapsed fully on top of them.

Warm...

It was silent in Byleth’s room apart from the two’s breathing. Silent and a mess.

Byleth’s thoughts slid depressingly back to laundry, but they found they weren’t much in the mood to complain. Their muscles may well have the structural integrity of soggy bread at present, but that just meant they didn’t have the strength to cramp. At worst their cunt felt a little tender, but that was a price they were willing to pay for the bone deep satisfaction that weighed them down.

There was a groan by their head. A shift against their collarbone.

“You back?” they mumbled. They could feel Jeritza tense.

“You’re bleeding,” he croaked, voice sounding as wrecked as Byleth’s felt.

“I’d noticed.”

“He-”

“’S fine,” Byleth insisted with all the authority one could muster after the best orgasm of their life. They twisted their wrist out of Jeritza’s grasp enough so they could interlock their fingers with his instead. The dried blood on his gloves had grown tacky, and from what they could tell, the blood smeared between their legs was approaching a similar fate. “Feels good.” Jeritza shifted and for a horrible moment Byleth thought he was going to leave. But he just straightened his bunched up sleeve and laid back down.

“Have you returned to fighting condition?” A bold question from someone who sounded on the edge of sleep himself.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Hm.”

“...So. Same time next month?”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even bother with kinktober (don't have the energy or the variety of kinks lol) and yet I'm 2 for 3 at drowning my fics during them? ah, such as it is.


End file.
